Rock Gods Don't Cry
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: Post All The Best... 'I said I would protect you, and look where it landed both of us,' Charlie though bitterly. 'If he does anything to you, if he lays a finger on that baby, it’ll be my fault. I’ll never forgive myself.'


**Rock Gods Don't Cry**

He didn't feel anything. Just hollow. He'd never felt so empty before. Not even when Locke had kept his drugs hidden away. It was different this time. So different, it nearly killed him to think about it. It felt as if his mind couldn't, wouldn't, work, not for anything... Anything other than her.

He was hardly aware of anything outside his own body. He was cold. And afraid. The fire was close, but he couldn't even feel the heat that must have been radiating off of it. His raw fingers gripped at his arms in attempts to stop the shivering. All he could see was the fire. That cold, unyielding fire. It flickered and wavered before him. The crackling of the wood seemed to come from somewhere far away. Sometimes, he fancied that it sounded like laughter.

He bit his bottom lip. _Her_ laughter.

Minutes turned into hours. He never looked away from the fire. He couldn't. It was the only thing that mattered now, even if he was still cold. Every so often, and hand, reaching from the darkness of oblivion, would throw another log onto the fire. Someone came along and draped a blanket over his shoulders. It didn't help any. He was still shivering.

Then came a murmuring. A low sound that sounded like a familiar voice. He didn't pay it any heed. It was a male voice, not her voice. Hers was the only one that mattered then. He blinked dully, staring into the flames, his only friend. But that voice... it persisted. It fluttered by his ear, continually trying to draw him from his world of fire and darkness. He didn't want to leave. If he left, it would all come thudding back to him. If he left, he would feel the pain. If he left.

"Charlie," he heard his name from beyond the darkness, and suddenly, his world was shattered. The darkness collapsed into the jungle home he had come to know so well. The crackling of the fire intensified, and sparks flew into the night air. And then there was the pain. The gut-wrenching, heart-rending pain he had tried so hard to avoid, to forget, to hide. Before the murmuring could stop, he felt the words spilling from his mouth.

"I didn't see anything," his voice bit into the chill of the night air. The murmuring stopped. "I didn't hear anything," he continued. Digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palm, he dug his eyebrows furiously down in pain. "I don't _remember_ anything..." His heart seemed ready to collapse in upon itself. "Claire... All they wanted was Claire." And nothing more.

No one came to him when Jack and Kate left him there by the fire. He was alone, just as he had been before. All were sleeping, however fitfully, and Charlie was left alone. But now there was pain. Terrible, unbearable pain that stretched from his aching heart to his knotted stomach. And it was all his fault.

He should have seen a long time ago that Ethan was no good. He'd been around ne'er-do-wells his whole life. He should've sniffed him out like a bloodhound tracking Jack the Ripper after the kill. Now he was gone. Gone off into the jungle, never to be found again. Now he... _they_... had Claire.  
His fists curled into balls at his side. He bit his lip until it bled. He could have died then and still the pain would follow him. Blood dripped from his lip and onto his trembling fists.

_I said I would protect you, and look where it landed both of us,_ Charlie though bitterly, his words echoing inside his mind. _If he does anything to you, if he lays a finger on that baby, it'll be my fault. I'll never forgive myself, Claire._

Claire.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Charlie's vision clouded over, and hot, thick tears formed in his eyes.

Claire.

Fat tears poured from his eyes like a broken pipe. He gasped in a shuddering breath, pulled his head to his knees in a fetal position, and wept. Charlie Pace, God of Rock, bassist extraordinaire, cried into his knees like a broken child. His throat was too dry, too wounded to cry out in sorrow, but one word, and one word only, came loud enough to wake the nearest sleeper. Charlie cried out in anguish, heaving sobs in his lungs, hugging himself to his knees.

"_Claire_!"

"Oh my God..." the voice was close. He didn't even notice when Shannon climbed out of her makeshift bed and knelt next to where Charlie sat, unmoved since Jack and Kate had brought him back. He didn't notice when Shannon, her own hands trembling in fear, tried to abate Charlie's wracking sobs.

"Charlie," she called, rubbing his shoulder in a circular motion. "Charlie! Oh God, I can't do this!"

Then Charlie's next sob caught in his throat. He forced it back down into his gut, fighting the urge to collapse into a heap and die. He felt Shannon's nervous hands on his shoulder, which halted as soon as he had. Slowly, painfully, he lifted his head from his knees, blinking the tears from his red eyes. He saw that she was scared, and her breathing terse. He swallowed whatever tears he wanted to let free, wanted to let from himself like a disease. His hands were still shaking.

"Charlie, are you all right?" Shannon asked. He almost felt something like life sparking in his dead heart. Maybe the snob act was just that: an act. Charlie breathed again, a shallow, shuddering breath that barely filled his aching lungs.

"Rock Gods don't cry," he said in a tear-stained voice. Shannon sighed and shot him a nervous smile.

"Do... Do you want me to get Jack?" She turned to face the darkness of camp. A few bodies were stirring from Charlie's outburst. Charlie shook his head, fighting back the rebellious tears.

"Go back to sleep," Charlie insisted, his voice not finding the steadiness he wanted. "I'll be all right." Shannon lingered, looking worriedly at the ruined boy in front of her.

"You said..." she paused, as if afraid he would break into sobs again at any word. "You said, 'Claire.' Do you think she's all right?"

Charlie wished that she hadn't said anything. Any hope, and flame, in his heart died then, and crumpled in upon itself. He hugged himself, feeling the chills through his body again. He screwed his eyes tight against anything that wanted in or out.

"Because Kate told me that if anyone can find her, it would be Mr. Locke." She was trying to encourage him. _That bitch_. Charlie fought the lump in his throat, pulling the blanket close around him.

"He wasn't the one who lost her in the first place." Charlie battled with himself, every other breath bringing with it the want of fresh tears. There was a deep silence, punctuated only the jungle noises of the night. Shannon nodded, feeling it hard not to cry just at the sight of his bloodshot eyes and that rope mark circling his poor neck. She nodded silently and shuffled away, back to her bed.

Charlie opened his eyes and stared at the fire.

If he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine her there, smiling it him.

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AN: I don't like making Charlie cry. Then I cry. Then it gets hard to write 'cus I can't see the keyboard. But anyway, I felt like I had to write something, even though it's so much shorter than my other stories. And I made Shannon good! I hope it's in character, and I hope everyone likes!


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